


Action Figures

by Gemmiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bad Boys, Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-21
Updated: 2013-11-21
Packaged: 2018-01-02 06:20:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1053504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gemmiel/pseuds/Gemmiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A missing scene from "Bad Boys," in which Dean gives Timmy a new action figure to replace Bruce the Monster Smasher.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Action Figures

“I’m really sorry I had to burn Bruce the Monster Smasher.”

In the dark shadows of the big barn, Dean Winchester knelt down in front of the small, skinny child, taking care to keep his voice soft. He knew he was kind of a big guy with a big voice, and that could be scary for someone as little as Timmy. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten the kid any more. He’d been scared enough already.

“It’s okay.” Timmy’s voice was very small, but steady. “I know you were trying to help my mom.”

Dean looked into the eyes behind the thick glasses. Enough afternoon sunlight filtered through the dirty windows that he could see the boy's expression. He could tell that the kid was trying to be brave, but Timmy had just lost his mom for the second time, and he had to be hurting. 

Dean knew what it was like to lose your mother. He’d been very young when he’d lost his, and that night was mostly a blur of white-hot flames and the feel of a helpless baby in his arms and his dad's frantic voice: _Take your brother outside as fast as you can and don't look back!_

Still, as young as he’d been, he could still clearly remember what he'd felt like the night his mom died. It had hurt like hell, and the pain had never really left him. But he hadn’t been trailed around by a scary burned ghost, either… well, not a physical one, at least. He wasn’t a psychiatrist, but he had a feeling that having your mom’s burnt, twisted image haunting you could be seriously traumatizing. Even though all the scary aspects had melted away from her when Timmy let her go, and she’d looked young and beautiful and happy for a moment, he’d still watched her go all psycho on other people, seen her kill people, just to keep him safe. 

Dean was worried the kid was going to carry around scars from that for the rest of his days. 

“Yeah, I was,” he said gruffly. “Still, your mom gave it to you, and I know it was important. I’m sorry.” 

The action figure had burned on the stove, right in front of Timmy, just like his mom had burned in the car after that wreck a year ago. Dean didn’t want the kid thinking about it over and over again, remembering how his mom's flesh had been scorched by that fire, the same way Bruce the Monster Smasher's plastic body had scorched and warped on the stove. Thoughts of screams and flame and burning flesh had plagued Dean too many times in the dark of night.

“It’s okay,” Timmy said again.

“No, it’s not. Listen…” Dean extended a hand to him. “I know nothing can replace Bruce, because your mom gave it to you. But… I got you this.”

The little boy looked curiously at the plastic figure in Dean's hand. “Who’s that?”

“Dude. It’s the greatest superhero ever. It’s _Batman._ ”

Timmy looked at the black-clad figure carefully, but made no move to take it. “He looks a little scary.”

“He’s only scary to bad guys,” Dean said. He'd gotten the action figure at the general store in town earlier in the afternoon. “He’s—well, he’s kind of like you and me, Timmy. He lost his parents when he was a kid, too. So he grew up to fight bad guys, so other kids didn’t have to go through what he did. When he’s not wearing the mask, his name is Bruce, too. But when he’s wearing the mask, no one knows who he really is. He’s, you know, mysterious. Shadowy. And he can clobber evil just as well as your old Bruce. Maybe better, even.”

The little boy reached out to take the action figure, very cautiously. “He fights monsters?”

“Monsters and bad guys, yeah. And he’s really cool. He drives an awesome black car, and he lives in this place called the Batcave.”

The little boy looked at him, and his fingers tightened around the figure. “You drive a black car.”

Dean laughed. “Yeah, but mine isn’t—" He almost said _as cool as Batman’s,_ but he couldn’t bring himself to say that about the Impala. No car on Earth was cooler than Baby, after all. “Well, the Batmobile is just as cool as my car. Plus it has all these awesome gadgets. And Batman keeps a whole city safe, all by himself. Sometimes he even saves the world.”

Timmy frowned, considering. “I guess it doesn’t bother him too much to have lost his parents, 'cause he’s big and strong.”

Dean blew out a breath, trying to figure out how to answer that. “I think,” he said at last, “that it’s always gonna be tough when you’ve lost your mom. I mean, it’s not something you can ever forget, you know? But time passes, and maybe eventually it doesn’t hurt quite as much as it once did.”

“My mom tried to stay with me.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve never heard of that happening before, not like that. She must have loved you an awful lot, Timmy. But…” He spoke as gently as he could. “Eventually she had to let go of you. And you gotta let go of her too, buddy.”

The little boy’s fingers wrapped around the action figure harder than before, but he didn’t say anything. Behind the glasses, his eyes were huge and dark in the dim light.

“It’ll be all right,” Dean said gently. “You just remember that your mom tried to protect you from the bad guys, and maybe when you’re grown up _you_ can help save kids from monsters and bad guys. Okay?”

Timmy held Batman tightly. “Okay,” he said. “Maybe… maybe I can help you fight monsters someday.”

Dean looked at the little boy, and remembered another little boy who’d lost his mom, a little boy who’d grown up to stand beside Dean, shoulder to shoulder, fighting evil sons of bitches. His heart twisted. He didn’t like the idea of Timmy growing up to be like him and Sammy, but…

Well, hell. Sometimes you didn’t choose the life—it chose you.

He remembered Timmy assuring his mother’s ghost, _I’ll be okay. I promise._ No matter what Timmy grew up to be, he hoped that was the truth, and that the kid would be okay. God, he hoped so.

“Maybe you can, one day,” he answered, reaching out to ruffle the boy’s hair gently. “But right now I just want you to stay here on the farm and be happy, okay?”

“Okay,” Timmy said. He bowed his head over the action figure, clutching it to his narrow chest, and there was an audible sniff. “I wish you didn’t have to go, Dean.”

“Yeah, me too.” God, he was a sap. But it was the truth. He really hated leaving this little guy behind. “Listen, I gotta get back to clobbering evil soon, kiddo, but before I go… do you want to go for a ride in my car? Just for fun?”

Timmy’s head lifted, and his eyes lit up. 

“Can Batman come?”

“Of course,” Dean said. He rose to his feet, looking down at the kid. Timmy was so little, he thought. So young. It just wasn’t _fair_ that he had to face life on his own, armed with nothing more than an action figure.

Well, he had Sonny, too. That was something, all right. Sonny had helped a lot of kids. He'd helped Dean himself, a hard case if ever there was one, so he could help this one, too. And he and Sammy’d check in on the little guy from time to time, too. Just to make sure things were going okay. 

Maybe if there were enough people watching out for him, Timmy would be all right.

He sure hoped so.

Without conscious thought, he reached down and swooped the boy up, seating him on his shoulders. Timmy squealed, a bright and happy sound that made Dean grin. He’d never admit it, but he really liked kids. They were resilient as hell, and they could find joy in the simplest things.

“C’mon, kid,” he said, and carried Timmy out into the sunlight.


End file.
